


[Riff Raff]

by Aeacus



Series: Holiday Specials [5]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Easter, Easter Eggs, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Humor, Vandalism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-29
Updated: 2013-03-29
Packaged: 2017-12-06 21:02:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/740125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aeacus/pseuds/Aeacus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John and Dave try to pull off their high school pranks and get caught. They are forced to do community service at a local church Easter weekend.  They are just a couple of dorks. Total best friend fluff.</p>
            </blockquote>





	[Riff Raff]

“Hey! What are the two of you doing?”

“Oh shit. Run.”

“Stop!”

“Oof! Fuck.”

“I got this one. Go after the other one.”

“Fuck! Ow...”

“Got him. Goddamn punks making me run.”

“What were the two of you doing anyways?”

“Are those cans of spray paint?”

“Yes sir but-”

“You know this is school property, right?”

“Yes sir but-”

“And this could mean serious trouble for both of you.”

“But we are-”

“God damn hooligans. Gonna take forever to clean.”

“Fucking hell! I’m trying to-”

“Yep, that’s it. Vandalism, fleeing the scene, and insulting an officer.”

“What I didn’t-”

“Don’t talk back. You’ll just make it worse.”

“But-”

“Can it, Egbert.”

“Wait, you’re Egbert’s kid?”

“Fuck.”

* * *

“So this is the place?”

You glance up at the building. It looks like every other building on the block except for the large gymnasium looming over it and the sprinkling of art and craft projects in the window. Those make for good indications that yes, this is the place that you will be serving out your community service. What a brilliant way to spend several spring weekends. Please note the heavy use of sarcasm in that statement.

Without answering your clueless best friend, you slump your shoulders down and stride up to the front door. He scrambles after him, somehow still cheery even though this is all his fault. Well, his fault and Lalonde’s. It was his ‘prankster gambit’ and her incessant needling that put them into the position to get caught red handed (you find irony in the fact that the spray paint you were using was actually red and had gotten on your hands).

You push open the door and almost physically recoil at the musty, churchy smell that hits you. All of these places smell the same. You don’t understand how it is possible. Maybe they all get pious dust scented candles from the same distributor so that there is a uniformity between all churches, youth ministries, rec centers, etc. Whatever. You don’t actually care. All you know is that it perfectly suits the also fairly uniform beige and dirty browns these places are decorated with.

And sitting behind one of those dirty brown desks is a smiling woman who is beaming nearly as cheerfully as Egbert. Actually the blue eyes on the makeup heavy face and cheesy grin are really reminding you of Lil’Cal. You suppress your shudder and let Egbert take the lead.

“Hi there! We are here to meet with a Mr. Soren?”

“Oh you mean Dan. He’ll be in the gym. I suppose you two are the boys that need some volunteer time?” Boys? You are definitely not boys. As seniors in highschool about to embark into the world through the glorious concept of college, you are definitely men. Young men. But when you hit six feet on your last growth spurt you assuredly grew out of the term ‘boy’ and all of it’s youthful connotations.

“Yup that’s us. I’m John and this is Dave!” I give her a nod at my introduction.

“Nice to meet you, Jonathan and David.” That’s impressive. She managed to butcher both of your names in one fell swoop. Names that are a single, simple syllable. If you had wanted to be called Jonathan and David you would have introduced yourselves as such. But no, you are John and Dave, Dave and John, John, Dave. That’s it. That’s what is actually written on your birth certificates. Well okay. At least that is true for yours. You aren’t quite sure about John’s. Jonathan actually sounds like something Mr. Egbert would have named him. A gentleman’s name.

You break out of the ramble in your head to sign into the ledger that you will become familiar with for the next several weekends. After Ms. Whatever-her-name-is gives directions to Egbert, you follow him back into the maze of hallways. As your sneakers scuff and the bottom edges of your jeans drag along the generic berber carpet, you are struck with the urge to take off your shoes and run around the place in your socks. You quell the urge with thoughts of coolness and the rationale that in no way that action could be construed as ironic. It doesn’t stop the almost physical itch in the soles of your feet.

Egbert pauses at a set of doors, obviously unsure that he managed to follow the instructions (and given how many turns you took to get to this point it’s understandable). With a sigh, you step up and push open the doors. It’s not like you’d be walking in on any compromising situations. You are at a damn church-sponsored youth-oriented recreation center. But Egbert did manage to lead the way correctly (you are going to need his help in finding the entrance again when you go to leave) and the doors open up to the gym. Again you are hit with the stereotypical musty, old sweat and carpet cleaner smell that all gyms seem to have.

The large space is lit up by a series of halogen lights that you can feel already digging into your brain to cause you eye strain. The back wall is the only relief, hosting a bank of windows that let natural light in. Several basketball nets hang from the high ceiling and correspond with the painted lines that mark up the floor. A stack of mats line the wall to the right and chairs and folded up tables line the left. In the center of the room a tall man is watching over group of kids run around in some sort of game that involves balls, hoops, and a bizarre set of rules that you don’t pick up on and hope that no one actually tries to explain to you. You don’t have enough room in your brain for inane children games and all of your high school course work especially with all of those national tests approaching.

The two of you awkward wait to the side for a break in the action before one of the kids tattles your presence to the adult. He turns to look at you briefly before addressing the group.

“Keep on going, guys. Looking great. I have to talk to the new guys so only interrupt if it’s important or you are bleeding. Try to keep the blood on the carpet to a minimum, I just had the floors cleaned last week.” Then he walks over to the two of you.

Your first impression is that he is some weird hybrid between your Bro and Egbert’s dad. He walks with the confidence of a badass but with the poise of a gentleman. His short hair is starting to go grey but that just gives him all the good vibes that come with age like experience, maturity, and wisdom. The trimmed beard also gives conflicting impressions of ruggedness and careful attention to detail. His narrow, rimless glasses give him the look of a cool professor, someone even you wouldn’t mind learning from. He’s just taller than you so you can basically look him in the eyes without having to tilt your head one way or the other.

“Welcome, volunteers. Or should I say conscripts.” Already you like him.

“Hi! We’re John and Dave. You must be Mr. Soren.”

“Mr. Dan. Yes, I will be your overseer while you visit here, John and Dave.” He mimics the way that Egbert said your names together as if you are a set pair. Which you guess is pretty true. He shakes both of your hands.

“Well, we are ready to do whatever you need us to do around here, Mr. Dan!”

“Good to hear that. I’ll finish up activities with the kids here and go over what you will be doing when the kids go off to lunch. Until then I guess just hang out on the mats.”

“Okay cool!”

You catch the look that Mr. Dan gives Egbert before turning back to the kids. You know that look. You’ve given Egbert that look yourself. The “Why are you so happy to be here at your punishment” look. That exact one actually. And variations of that look. You roll your eyes in sympathy and head over to the mats like ordered with Egbert trailing behind you like a puppy.

The mats are surprisingly comfortable as you jump up to sit on a stack. So comfortable that even you can’t stop yourself when you scoot to the middle and lay down, stretching out lengthwise over the blue vinyl surface. Egbert joins you, sitting in the middle and falling back across your stomach. You bat at his head which does nothing to remove it and only serves to make him laugh. Eventually you settle down with your hand still in his hair and him softly bobbing with each of your breaths. You love moments like this, just chilling out with your best bro.

Even if it’s in a gym filled with screaming children.

You know that Egbert was nearly asleep from the way he jerks up when Mr. Dan comes over to talk to you after dismissing the kiddies. Thankfully you both grabbed some food before coming over, otherwise you might be jealous of the boxes of apple juice you know the little brats are not fully appreciating. No one loves juice boxes like you do.

“Alright guys. Here are some ground rules. I’m going to treat you like adults as long as you act like them. Use common sense when going around here. Don’t break anything. Don’t steal anything. Don’t be too loud and obnoxious. And get your work done. Restrooms are just outside the gym where you came in, first door to the left. Kitchen is in the back over there,” he gestures to the chair wall, “if you need some water. If you want any food, then ask before you just take. The storage room that we will be working out of mostly is in the back,” a point towards the windows, “and has everything that you’ll need. Any other questions?”

You shake your head as Egbert pipes up with a “No sir!”

“And don’t call me sir. Mr. Dan is fine.”

“Sorry.”

“So your community service sentence is for three weekends here. This one, next one, and the one after that. Lucky for us, Easter tomorrow.”

“Huh? But it’s March. Isn’t Easter in April?”

“Easter is the Sunday that follows the next full moon after the vernal equinox. Jeez, Egbert. Don’t they teach you anything in school?” Mr. Dan looks at you with a bemused expression while Egbert has a cross between embarrassed and incredulous. You can’t not take the shot to one up him on something so easy like that. You maintain a straight face even as he not so surreptitiously elbows you in the side.

“As I was saying, Easter is tomorrow. We’ll do several events for the congregation and especially for the kids so today will mostly be prep and tomorrow will putting on the show. I’ll come up with something else for next two weekends after that.”

“Okay! Easter is cool! So what do you need us to do?”

Again Egbert’s enthusiasm cannot be doused. You make sure to keep your groans of consternation to yourself. Hanging out with groups of churchy people is not your idea of fun and doing the same with kids just sounds painful. You’d rather have your teeth pulled out by Bro where he replaces the anesthetic with lemon juice while grinding his knee into your chest to keep you pinned and forcing you to watch MLP while listening to lame rap. You don’t mind kids as long as they are kept far far far away from you. Twenty foot radius minimum in small groups only.

“Mostly you’ll be putting up decorations. Then on Sunday, we will need one of you to play the Easter Bunny and one of you to hide the eggs around the gym and in the playground.” You perk up at that. ‘Play the Easter Bunny’ sounds innocuous enough but this is the same group that presents Santa in all of his hellish trappings. You did that over a Christmas break once.

Once.

You bet that Mr. Dan has a cheesy bunny suit tucked somewhere in the back of that storage closet that he mentioned earlier. You would rather take jail time over climbing into some horror like that.

“Well that sounds like fun!” Your eyes twitch as you restrain them from rolling to the back of your skull out of antipathy for his ignorance. He obviously didn’t think through the connotations of what Mr. Dan just said. Or maybe he is assuming that you’ll be drafted into the faux fur crypt and he’ll be free to frolic around. Fuck him. This will be an awful Easter. You are tempted to glower and complain and be the antithesis of Egbert to an extreme.

“Glad you think so because since Dave is too tall for the suit so you’ll be the bunny.”

Genetics for the fucking win. You can almost hear Egbert’s jaw drops as the full realization of that statement crashes into him. Oh how the tables have turned. This is will be an awesome Easter.

Mr. Dan chuckles softly in sympathy which again brings up a weird sensation that he is the love child between Bro and Dad. But he does it in such a way that doesn’t make it hideous. And that just makes it weirder, you think.

“Come on, I’ll show you where the stuff is.” You jump off the mats to follow him across the gym floor. “We’ll only decorating the gym so we don’t have to worry about you guys getting lost in all of the hallways this place has.”

“Thanks,” you respond with sincerity.

Egbert’s constant happiness flags a little, obvious in the way that his heels drag and scrape across the floor as you head to the back. Mr. Dan opens the swing door which reveals a short hallway with a couple extra mats on one side and another set of doors that you assume is the storage closet. You are proven correct as the doors are pulled open to reveal the dark room. Boxes are stacked on boxes, each marked with a holiday in black sharpie marker. Mr. Dan points to the back where you can see ‘EASTER’ scrawled out on several boxes. He tells you guys to have at it and heads back to the kiddies.

“They can’t seriously have a bunny suit?” Egbert groans as soon as Mr. Dan is out of earshot.

“I can’t wait to dig it out.” You grin at him and head to the boxes.

“Fuck you, Dave.”

You just grab the first box, passing it off of the top of the stack to Egbert to stage in the small hallway. You grab the second and follow him out. When you head back in, you see two more columns that are labeled with the approaching holiday. It will take you most of today’s time and tomorrow time just to get through all of these, which you suppose is the point of the community service.

You catch Egbert gingerly opening the first box and peeking inside. He sighs in relief as apparently it’s not the box with the dreaded bunny suit. Instead it is filled with pastel decorations of all sorts. Your box is similar. Together you go through the junk to organize where it needs to go. There are window decorations, tablecloths, centerpieces, wallhangings, and bags and bags of plastic eggs. You are going to have so much fun hiding all of those. You might even stop by a discount dollar store and pick up some bags of candy to fill them with.

What, no, you aren’t a softie or anything. You hate kids. You don’t want to be doing community service at a strange church. What are you talking about.

The pinks, yellows, greens, blues, and purples are starting to get to you obviously.

It’s when you open the seventh box that you find the fluffy white ears. You can’t help but grin as you pull the hideous faux fur out of the box and the entire head comes along, The face is open but the white fluff will cover the rest of Egbert’s head. You hear the groan from down the hall.

“Hey it’s perfect! How did they know that you would come standard with big bunny teeth?”

“Haha,” he deadpans back to you. “That’s just so funny.”

You toss the head at him. You let out a laugh when you look back into the box.

“What? Why are you laughing?”

“It gets better. There’s more.”

“No.” The look of abject horror on his face is priceless as you reach in and pull out the rest of the abomination. From what you can see it has pastel overalls over the terrible fur. It will be hell for him to wear.

“Well, at least all of the beaver jokes will stop at school. Now you have a new spirit animal for them to focus on.”

“Dude. No one has teased me about my teeth in years. You fixed that back in middle school. Plus no one will know about this.”

“Until I take pictures.”

“I’ll kill you. I will murder you in your sleep. I will take one of your brother’s shitty katanas and stab you.”

“Jade will really appreciate that you are finally getting in touch with your inner furry.”

“Good god, shut the fuck up.”

“Come on put the head on, I have to see how hideous this thing is. I promise to shut up.”

“Guh! Only to get you to shut up.” He slips the head on and yes, it is as bad as you imagined it would be. His scowling face doesn’t help with the tableau either.

You manage to get out “Eeeeh, what’s up doc?” before you burst out laughing.

“I hate you.”

“Be careful not to go out right now, it’s wabbit season.”

“Dave.” There is menace in his tone which is absolutely ruined by the costume.

“With those teeth I have to assume yo daddy’s first name is Bugs and his middle is Bunny.”

He takes off the bunny head and drops it to the floor. You glance over at him and have to get one more jab in.

“You should become a boxer and hope someone knocks your teeth out. Would save Dadbert a couple thousand on orthodontist bills.”

You knew it was coming. You even saw his arm draw back between your laughs. But it always manages to surprise you how hard Egbert hits. Holy shit, it’s not right that someone as skinny as Egbert can hit so fucking hard. You see stars as soon as his fist connects with your face with the bloom of pain coming a moment later and are knocked back a step or two. Or three. Fuck. You hide your smile as you shift your balance forward again.

You lower your shoulder and tackle him, hitting him squarely in the gut. You can hear the rush of expelled air as he falls hard on a mat with you tumbling down afterward. That doesn’t stall him at all as he grapples with you, using his brief stint in wrestling to tell his limbs what to do. But hey you are skinny too and you use that to get out of his grip for the most part. Your long arms are kinda unwieldy at such close quarters and he does get one of them pinned and you are forced to use the other to fend off a couple short blows to your torso. You manage to land a glancing kick along his shin which makes him curse sharply and gives you the opportunity to push away from him which just gives him a wider and stronger swing with his fist.

Oh yea, you are going to have some nice bruises on your ribs by tomorrow.

Your brawl slash wrestle match doesn’t last long as you start laughing at each other as you try stupid cheap moves to try to get the upper hand. Eventually the laughter takes over and you end up weakly slapping at each other until you fall on your back to catch your breath.

“Heh. I can’t believe you decked me,” you pant out as you sit up a little on your arms.

“That’s what you get for being a huge douchenozzle.”

“Worth it.” You pause. “Bugs.”

“Dave, I swear to god I will end you.”

“Then who would you have to go break into the school to pull off the ‘best senior prank ever!’?” you actually pull off a good Egbert mimic, “And hang around to do time with you. You know I could have flash-stepped out of that joint and saved my own ass easy.”

“Yea, yea. We all know you are the queen of flash-stepping.”

“Princess actually. Bro’s the queen. And I got the tiara to prove it.”

“The funny thing is that I know you do actually have a tiara in your mess of a room.”

“Hell yea.”

The two of you fall into a comfortable silence. You guys haven’t fought like that in a while. It was actually pretty fun, you think even as you feel your cheek starting to swell and each breath is kinda painful in that awkward stretching way. But you know Egbert is feeling it too. Bro didn’t teach you how to fight for nothing.

Eventually you push yourself up to your feet and reach a hand back down to him. It’s easy to pull his skinny ass up off the ground. Again, you have no idea where all that power behind his punches come from.

With silent agreement to put the bunny back into the box... insert totally ironic and totally overdone Con Air joke here... and the box back into the closet until the cursed event a week from now, the you and your best friend get back to work.


End file.
